Chapter 104 The Rift Reopens and the Echo of Milo
The Rift was bleeding.
Not with flame, but with absence.
The ley lines around Aeloria had begun to warp. Spells misfired. Glyphs refused to hold. The stars flickered like they were trying to forget themselves. And in the center of it all, the Void pulsed—slow, steady, and wrong.
Milo was changing the void and with it Aeloria.
And the world as we knew it was changing with him.
I stood at the edge of the Rift, my hands clenched, my eyes hollow.
“He’s still in there,” I said.
Thessa nodded, her blade strapped to her back. “And he’s pissed.”
Kael leaned against a tree, chewing on a piece of dried fruit. “Honestly, I’d be pissed too. We keep dragging him back from metaphysical oblivion like it’s a group hobby.”
Zeke was adjusting Gerald’s new armour—flame-resistant, goat-sized, and deeply impractical.
Gerald snorted.
Quacknor perched on Kael’s shoulder, wearing a tiny cloak and radiating duck menace.
Yuel was scribbling in a new journal, muttering about “dimensional bleed” and “Void resonance.”
Ellira and Lira were drawing a new glyph circle, one that shimmered with unstable energy.
Aine and Talon stood beside me, her silver flame steady. Talon’s sword at the ready, “He’s not Milo anymore.”
“You need to know that you might not be able to save him.”
“He’s still mine. We still need to try to save him.” I said.
The first sign came at dawn.
A child in the village woke up screaming, claiming the stars had whispered Milo’s name.
The second came at noon.
A Kindler’s flame turned black mid-healing.
The third came at dusk.
The King’s mirror cracked, and his reflection whispered, “He’s watching.”
I gathered the flameborn companions.
“We’re going back in,” I said.
Thessa cracked her knuckles. “Good. I’ve been itching to punch a metaphysical concept.”
Kael raised a hand. “Quick question: are we sure Milo wants to be saved? Because last time, he looked at you like you were a tax audit.”
Zeke nodded. “He’s not exactly sending postcards.”
Yuel looked up. “He’s rewriting the ley lines. If we don’t stop him, magic itself could collapse.”
Ellira and Lira finished the glyph. It pulsed once, then hissed.
“That’s normal,” Lira said.
“Mostly,” Ellira added.
Gerald headbutted the glyph.
Quacknor quacked ominously.
Aine stepped forward. “We’ll need a tether. Something that connects you to him.”
I reached into my satchel.
She pulled out a scrap of black cloth.
Milo’s scarf.
The glyph activated.
The Rift opened.
And the world blinked.
They stepped into the Void.
It was different now.
No longer hollow.
It was angry.
The walls pulsed with Milo’s voice.
Not words.
Just emotion.
Grief.
Rage.
Regret.
Resentment.
It wasn’t a pleasant place to be.
They walked in silence.
Until Kael said, “So, just to clarify, we’re walking into a sentient abyss to rescue a guy who may or may not want to kill us?”
Thessa nodded. “Yep.”
Kael sighed. “Cool. Just checking.”
Lira muttered, “Do you have anything better to do?”
Kael turns his head, looking shocked, “I didn’t take the cookies from the oven. People, we have twelve minutes, let’s make this quick.”
Zeke nods, “Snacks are important.”
The first echo hit them like a wave.
A memory.
Milo’s first betrayal.
A friend who used him.
Another friend who left him.
A mother who died.
A father who was never there.
I staggered.
“He’s hurting,” she said.
Yuel caught her. “He’s becoming that hurt.”
They reached the first chamber.
It was shaped like a heart.
But it beat with Void.
Milo stood in the center.
His body was in shadow.
His eyes were stars.
“You came,” he said.
I stepped forward. “I always will.”
He laughed.
It was cold.
“You shouldn’t have. I don’t want you here. Leave and don’t return. Get used to the fact that this is me.”
Thessa drew her blade.
Kael readied a glyph. “Remember twelve minutes,” he whispered.
Zeke raised his crossbow. “Copy that.”
Ellira and Lira activated shields.
Gerald pawed the ground.
Quacknor flared his wings.
Aine’s flame surged.
Talon stood with sword at the ready.
Yuel whispered, “He’s not stable. I don’t think we can complete this in twelve minutes.”
I stood the forgotten flame ready.
Milo raised his hand.
The Void surged.
The glyphs shattered.
The shields cracked.
The flame dimmed.
And the stars screamed.
I stepped forward.
“Milo, please,” I begged.
He looked at me.
And for a moment—
I caught a glimpse of what Milo used to be, of the little boy who would run carefree through the meadow outside our house. Of the little boy who used to sit on my lap and listen as I read stories to him.
Then—
He turned away.
“I don’t care anymore. Not about you, not about anything.”
The Void pulsed.
The chamber collapsed.
And we were thrown back.
They landed in the Riftheart.
Broken.
Burning.
I knelt.
Clutching the scarf.
“He’s slipping, he is allowing the darkness to win,” I said.
Aine placed a hand on my shoulder. “Then we hold on tighter.”
Thessa stood. “We go again.”
Kael groaned. “I swear, if I die in a metaphor, I’m haunting someone. But let me get the cookies.”
Zeke checked Gerald’s armour. “I want a freshly-baked cookie. ”
Yuel opened a new journal. “We’ll find a way.”
Ellira and Lira began a new glyph.
Quacknor quacked.
Talon mutters, “We are not done yet.”
I stood.
Eyes burning.
“We’re bringing him back. We don’t let our people turn dark and lose hope; we are going to save him.”
The Rift pulsed.
The Void whispered.
And Milo watched.
From the dark.